I wonder why things happen,
The things that like to hurt,
The things that cause me pain,
The things that like to stab me hard,
So hard that it leaves me breathless,
Exhilarating experiences, but deathly,
Why do I have this urge?
This urge to hurt?
Can't I just live?
Live to love and to laugh?
Isn't that what life is about?
To love and to laugh?
These things are strangers to me,
Things that alienate me away from others,
Isolated, and cold,
Things that cause me hurt,
Why do I hurt?
Do I cause myself hurt?
Why do things hurt?
Why do I like to hurt?
Hurt, a familiar friend,
Yet, sometimes so comforting,
Welcoming hurt isn't so hard anymore,
Why do I like to hurt?
I whisper to myself as I feel the wonderful rush or Autumn air hit me in the face with a comforting hello.
Why do I like to hurt?
This question remains silent in the air, the rustling of the leaves rustling a whisper of the other side,
Pushing me off that cliff
The cliff I visit to leave the hurt
JUMP! The babbling water says to me below,
As I leave the hurt behind.